Hunter
by The-Spirit-of-a-Child
Summary: A short Edgerton fic. Kinda funny in later chapters. Warning Slash. First chapter not that funny. Second chapter will be. There might be a third. Just r and r. Please. T for some mild swear words.
1. They Can't Know

Hunter

by Sunniva Ixchel

I own nothing. Not even this laptop. Grrrr.

Warning: Slash

Summery: I usually follow my instincts, I usually follow them more than my common sense. I _am_ the bastard son of Clint Eastwood and Yoda.

What else would you expect?

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I sit, my foot on the brake, my hand on the wheel.

Another call.

From LA.

If they knew, they wouldn't call me. They wouldn't have anything to do with me if they knew what I am.

What I do.

What I think.

I have secrets, there is no doubt of that. But if I keep it low key, I can get away with it.

Being me.

Being what I am.

Wanting what I want.

Some of them might not hate me. Some of them might put up with it.

Like Reeves.

Reeves is a nice girl.

Eppes might, but not with what I-

No don't think about it.

Don't think about what your body has been telling you to do.

Because you aren't going to do it.

You aren't going to hurt him.

That nice kid.

Nice mathematician.

Friggin' adorable kid mathematician.

A bit out there, but nice.

I usually follow my instincts, I usually follow them more than my common sense. I _am_ the bastard son of Clint Eastwood and Yoda.

What else would you expect?

What else would you expect me to be?

In retrospect most of my actions concerning the kid seem laid back and overly cool.

I find myself thinking, _'Ian, can you be any more obvious?'_

But I suppose I could be more obvious.

More obvious about what I think.

What I do.

What I want to do.

Ian Edgerton is entering LA.

Sniper expert.

Bastard son of Clint Eastwood and Yoda.

Hunter.

Predator.

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A.N.-This first part is kinda weird, but the rest will hopefully be better. You know how it goes...hopefully. Anyway. I got inspired by one of Edgerton's lines in that second part of that two-part thing. He said, "Hunting didn't change me, it chose me". Anyway. I liked it and this is going to contain some slash. Because I was also inspired by that fanfic "Edges" by someone who I can't remember their name. That fanfic is so freakin awesome.


	2. Love at First Sight

Hunter

by Spirit of a Child

A.N.: This is for anyone who ever wondered what goes on inside Edgerton's head. Enjoy. It also expresses my love for coffee ahem erm, I mean HIS love for coffee. LOL.

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Chapter Two

I step into the FBI bullpen.

I see familiar faces.

Reeves.

Granger.

Sinclair.

Eppes.

And of course...Charlie.

The kid.

That genius kid with all his equations and his mop of curly hair.

Adorable mop.

God, he looks so damn cute standing there.

The team and I greet one another, but Charlie is lost in his numbers.

I lean casually against the doorframe.

He still doesn't notice me.

Colby snickers.

I glare at him.

I creep up on Charlie.

Lean silently over his shoulder.

Smirk at his adorably intense look of concentration.

And breathe into his ear,

"Watcha thinkin' bout?"

He jumps out of his skin and whirls around,

Caught completely off guard.

I smirk at him.

He regains his composure,

"Did you really have to do that Ian?"

I smirk wider,

"Yep".

He makes a face at me.

So cute.

How can I be expected to resist?

I don't have a clue.

But I have to.

I sit down, waiting for the 411 on the case.

Don shoves Charlie playfully, ruffling his mop.

They are a cute pair, those two Eppes boys.

I listen as Megan explains the situation.

I take it in, all the while trying not to stare at Charlie's adorable ass.

I fail.

I glance.

I glance again.

Still adorable.

Then he goes up to the front and begins to explain.

Finally.

An excuse to stare at him.

I watch his face.

I watch his mouth moving.

Screw self-control.

He is mine.

They glance at me.

I put in my say.

Trying to leave out the words 'adorable' and 'ass' is hard.

Especially when I'm this horny.

We follow the leads.

We stare down the suspects.

Don sends out a team on another suspect's house.

I wander around the bullpen.

Thinking.

I pass the room Charlie's in and I hear the familiar mumbling of the naive mathematician.

Well, not that naive, but still.

He could be less sheltered.

I stop and glance in.

I smile slightly and shake my head.

I turn to leave.

I hear my name,

"Ian".

I turn back to see Charlie looking at me.

I grin at him,

"What is it kid?"

He scowls.

Hating the nickname.

Even though his brother calls him kid all the time.

He glanced at his equations, then back at me,

"Um, I need...never mind".

He turns back to the board, ignoring me again.

I can't help but smirk wider.

So damn cute.

I park myself on the table, listening to him mumble.

He turns, feeling my intense gaze.

I can tell he suspects.

Suspects what I want.

What I want from him.

I give him a smile,

"Sorry kid, am I freaking you out?"

He shakes his head, but I can tell he's lying.

He turns back to the problem, looking uneasy.

I sit.

Watching him.

Waiting for him to admit that my staring freaks him out.

But he is stubborn.

I see his hand shake slightly as he writes.

But he stays silent.

My smirk is at an all time wide.

His hand is shaking uncontrollably.

Now not even he can read what he has written.

He whirls around,

"God, Ian! Stop staring at me!"

I chuckle, getting up,

"Alright, alright. I was just waiting for you to admit that it bugs you".

He scowls at me.

I shake my head and laugh quietly.

I turn, glance back at him, then leave.

I sit on one of the desks.

I look at the clock.

12:39.

Damn.

It doesn't feel that late.

I glance back at Charlie and notice the dark circles under his eyes.

He's tired.

This time he doesn't feel my gaze.

He just keeps writing.

He erases something then starts writing again.

I smile.

I turn at the sound of footsteps.

Megan.

She smiles,

"You want some coffee? We can't go home til Don gets back".

I shrug and return her smile,

"Dunno, does the Starbucks here have an iced, black Mocha?"

She laughs and winks,

"They might".

She turns and starts off.

I turn back to watching Charlie write up his voodoo math.

I don't miss the curious glance she gives me.

Does she know?

Does she suspect?

She _is_ a behavioral analyst.

I'd be surprised if she didn't.

I turn and catch her gaze.

She raises her eyebrows in a knowing way.

I shrug.

She mouths,

"We'll talk later".

I roll my eyes at her.

She leaves.

I sigh with relief.

She had handled it well.

I turn back to Charlie.

He's sitting with his chin cupped in his hand.

So damn cute.

I smile and bring up my knee beside me.

I rest my head on it and close my eyes.

I slipped off and began to dream.

_I'm standing with a gun on my shoulder. I'm aiming at someone. Charlie. My finger tightens on the trigger as I ready myself. I try to yell out. I try to stop. But I can't. I watch him with a mercenary's eye. Ready to kill. He stops and turns. And looks right at me. I pull the trigger. The sound of the gunshot reverberates through my entire body. I see him fall. Dead._

My head snaps up and my entire body tenses.

I look at the chalkboard.

Charlie is still there.

I sigh.

Something pokes me in the arm,

"Bad dreams?"

I jump.

I look up.

Megan.

I scowl, "Don't do that".

She rolls her eyes and gives me my iced Mochachino.

I love coffee.

Beautiful.

Rich.

Dark.

Black.

Coffee.

She sits beside me and watches me sip my beautiful black coffee.

She doesn't even look at hers.

I glance at her.

She raises her eyebrows.

I give her a look,

"No, I don't want to talk about it".

She gives me a look of her own,

"Tough, because you're gonna talk about it".

I growl into my lovely rich coffee.

She isn't impressed.

Damn women.

I reluctantly sit my coffee down.

I wouldn't put it past her to steal my beautiful Mochachino and use it as blackmail.

I bring my foot up and sit it on the desk in front of me and wrap my arm around my knee.

Megan seems impressed with how limber I am.

Pretty good for a forty-five year old man with no life except guns and tracking.

I watch Charlie, completely oblivious to us.

My eyes follow every move he makes.

I stiffen as she touches my shoulder,

"You really should talk about it".

I turn to look at her,

"Why in the hell should I do that?"

She gave me a gentle smile,

"You need closure with yourself. You may not think you do, but you do".

I give her my stubborn look and turn back to watching Charlie.

He's been up there at least two hours.

Just writing, writing, erasing, writing.

I don't realize I'm smiling until Megan comments,

"If you don't stop smiling I swear that I'll never leave you alone".

The smile slides off my face as I turn to look at her,

"I was smiling?"

She raises her eyebrows,

"Um...yeah".

I sigh,

"Fine. You want me to talk, I'll talk. What do you want to know".

She squeezes my shoulder, "When did you first know? About how you felt".

I make a noise.

Not a question I want to answer.

I feel her eyes on me.

I bury my face in my knee and say something unintelligible.

She pokes me.

I growl.

She pokes me again.

I look up at her,

"About him, or about it in general?"

She pokes me again.

I growl,

"I'm up".

She grins evilly,

"I know. I just like poking you".

I roll my eyes.

She smiles,

"About him".

I'm sure I have some kind of reminiscent smile on my face,

"The first time I met him, he was showing Don where he thought the sniper might have shot from. He was about ten feet away from where the sniper had actually stood. I pointed this out to him and he looked up. Don introduced us and I repeated that the sniper had shot from where I was. He gave me that 'Who do you think you are fool?' look and said something like, 'What mathematical evidence are you basing that on?'. I explained it, then showed him where the sniper had used his jacket as a canvas. I told him that his was a pretty good guess. He said that he hadn't guessed, that he had estimated. I told him that the sniper would do it again. The thing about snipers is that we love what we do, and that wasn't a guess either, it was a fact. He gave a look that told me that he thought I was an uneducated muscle-head who was obsessed with guns and wanted to make his life hell. That's when I knew".

She smiles gently,

"The first time you met him?"

I find myself grinning,

"Yep".

She laughs softly,

"You are a strange man Ian".

I give her my 'I am so hot and I know it' look,

"I'll take that as a complement".

She shoved my shoulder.

I smile.

I turn back to look at Charlie.

He's still writing.

What is he writing anyway?

I don't know.

Does he even know?

Probably.

Damn his adorable geniusness.

If that's even a word.

I doubt it.

Megan sips her coffee for the first time.

She sighs with pleasure.

I grin and sip mine.

Still lovely.

Still rich.

Still black.

Still coffee.

Beautiful, rich, black, lovely, coffee.

Did I mention that I love coffee?

Yeah.

I love coffee.

Never tell anyone that.

Ever.

Ever ever ever.

Man, I love coffee.

Megan probably wouldn't love it if she knew how horny it makes me.

Because it makes me really REALLY horny.

And guess what.

I am now officially horny.

And high on caffeine.

Which also makes me horny.

And it makes me repeat myself.

A lot.

Yeah.

I'm horny.

Yeah.

I need more coffee.

Lots more coffee.

Damn Starbucks and their heavenly coffee that makes me horny.

Heavenly coffee.

Starbucks coffee makes me more horny than any other kind of coffee.

Maybe I should have mentioned that to Megan before she went.

I glance at her.

She's staring at me.

I blink,

"What?"

She shook her head,

"You looked...you had a weird look on your face. Somewhere between pissed and ecstatic".

I can't help but grin,

"I probably should have mentioned this earlier, but even the smallest cup of coffee can make me high on caffeine. Oh yeah, did I mention that coffee makes me horny?"

She gets this look on her face.

She thinks I've gone insane.

Probably because I have.

I have.

I have gone completely insane.

I smirk and glance at my cup.

The coffee is gone.

There is no more coffee left in my cup.

I look at it.

Still confused at how it all disappeared so fast.

I glance at her,

"The coffee's gone".

She nodded,

"Yes, the coffee is gone".

I give her my wounded puppy look.

She raises her eyebrows.

Impressed.

I can do a better puppy face than most people know.

It is one of my many secrets.

I glance back at Charlie.

Then it hits me.

I now understand where the coffee went.

Because my horny meter just hit the roof.

Screw his brother.

He is so mine

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A.N: The next part will not be very explicit. It'll kinda tell you what they do, but not on a graphic level. Get ready. It's gonna be awesome (hopefully). Don't sue me. I own nothing. I'm a minor. I own nothing. Period. This is not to be taken seriously.


	3. Crushing

Hunter

by Spirit of a Child

A.N.: Last chapter. For now anyway. Might be more later. Same format. Thank you SyberiaWinx and LuvNumb3rs and Snarky- I like it and Sushi Chi for reviewing. Yay!!! I have reviewers!!! Double yay!!!!! This scene is going to be kinda sexy, not too explicit though, so, anyway, enjoy!!

To SyberiaWinx: Yeah, thanx for r'n'ring. I love coffee just as much as he does...well, maybe not quite as much.

To LuvNumb3rs: Thanx for the review, this isn't really the greatest format, but I want to stay consistent. I'm trying to make it seem like it's literally coming from inside his head. Does your mind ever do that? Have conversations with itself? Mine does, so anyway.

To Snarky- I like it: I'm not entirely sure what you mean. Do yo u mean that you don't like him saying that in his head to the reader, or that you don't like it when he says that to Megan? That kinda confused me. Thanx for the review! Yay reviews!

To Sushi Chi: Here it is, enjoy! I may write some other Edgerton\Charlie stuff. But I'm gonna need ideas for a name for them. You know, like when they morph the names together. And make it sound cool. Like on X-Men they've got Kyro (Kitty and Pyro) and RoLo (Storm and Logan). And on NBC they had those hilarious ones like Jam (Jim and Pam) Dwangela (Dwight and Angela) and Jurk (J. D. and Turk on the Scrubs musical. LMFAO). Oh yeah, and on Star Wars they have Obidala (Obi-Wan and Padme). Stuff like that. But Charliton doesn't sound that cool or funny. Or Edgerlie. Ooooo. That's an idea. Edgerlie. LMAO.

Enjoy it!! I hope this inspires you to write an Edgerton fanfic wink wink :-P

I sigh with relief.

We got him.

The criminal.

I shot him in the arm.

That's enough to keep me content.

Almost.

Almost enough.

Because he is mine.

Charlie is so mine that he is not going to know what hit him.

Poor kid.

I see Megan watching me as I eye Charlie.

I ignore her.

Everyone is shaking hands.

Congratulating one another.

Charlie doesn't seem too happy though.

Poor kid.

All those deaths shook him up.

It's a good thing he doesn't really work in our field.

It's a really good thing.

Don and them are going to the Eppes house for some "refreshments".

In other words it is going to be a Beerfest.

Beer is not as good as coffee, but it's still good.

Charlie tells Don that he will catch up with them later.

Don doesn't sense his brother's nervousness.

But I do.

Something is eating at Charlie.

The rest go, leaving Charlie and me alone.

I sit beside the kid who has parked himself on Don's desk,

"Something wrong Professor?"

I smile.

He gives me a weak, nervous smile,

"I'm f-fine. Just, um, kinda, um, tired. Just tired. I need to get home".

He gets up rather quickly and turns to leave.

I catch a hold of his sleeve,

"Charlie-".

He cuts me off quickly,

"Really Ian, I need to go".

I hear the crack in his voice and I know.

He knows.

He knows about me.

About what I want.

Somehow or other, he knows.

And he's scared of me.

I grab his arm and sit him down,

"Sit".

He sits, obviously terrified of me.

I sigh.

This is not going to be easy.

Not easy at all,

"I know your scared of me Charlie, it's so obvious that it's not even funny. But I'm not gonna hurt you".

I lay a hand on his shoulder.

He stares at it and whispers,

"I know you don't want to hurt me. But I know what you **_do _**want to do".

Dammit.

He does know.

Double dammit.

I don't know what to say.

He's looking at me.

He's expecting me to answer.

But I can't.

I can't even look the kid in the eye.

Triple dammit.

He goes on, his voice wavering,

"You know Ian, it wouldn't be as bad if you actually cared about me. I could handle this if I knew that you didn't just want me as a plaything, if I knew that you actually-" the words caught in his throat.

I'm hurting the poor kid.

I glance around.

I run my fingers lightly through his hair.

It feels just as good as I imagined.

I watched him shiver at my touch.

I wasn't pulling on his hair.

Or digging my fingers into his scalp.

I wasn't threatening him.

But I do understand.

Being caressed by another man can be kind of unnerving.

I lean down.

Whisper into his ear,

"I do care about you kid. I care a lot about you. Sometimes I don't act like it, but I do. You're more than a toy to me, you are a living, breathing, thinking, feeling person. But that doesn't change the fact that I want you. And let me tell you, I want you".

I slip my hand through his hair.

Cup his cheek in my palm.

He still looks scared.

I look in his eyes.

And try to reassure him.

But he shies away from my touch,

"I'm sorry Ian, I-"

I pull him into a passionate kiss before he can finish.

I put one hand behind his head.

One on his back.

To ensure he won't get away.

He tastes even sweeter than I imagined.

But he pulls away.

I can feel his terrified desperation.

I let him pull away, but keep him firmly in my grasp.

He gasps, jerking away from me,

"Ian please, Ian. Please don't do this, please".

He's sobbing now.

I let him go.

He pulls away so fast that he falls over.

I use all my self-control to not laugh at him.

Because this is dead serious.

And Charlie is hurting.

Poor kid.

Poor sweet kid.

I watch him.

He gets up.

Backs away.

Never taking his eyes off of me.

I open my mouth.

Trying to apologize.

But he doesn't let me,

"Leave me alone Ian, leave me alone. DAMMIT LEAVE ME ALONE!!!".

I recoil at the vicious verbal bite.

Maybe.

Just maybe.

He's right.

Maybe I should leave him alone.

He doesn't want me.

He doesn't even want to here me apologize.

I shrug, pushing down the hurt,

"Fine. It's obvious you think I'm some kind of animal. I won't disgust you anymore".

I leave.

Push past him.

He just stands there.

I don't look back.

There's no point.

Why should I even hope that he'll call me back?

They never do.

Never.

Every single damn one of them are the same.

I ram my fist against the elevator button.

First thing I'm going to do is go down to the gun range and shoot something.

And I don't care if it's a real person or a dummy.

I'm just gonna shoot it like there's no tomorrow.

And it's gonna feel good.

My fist is clenched in a death grip.

I can feel my nails digging into the flesh on my palm.

But I don't care.

I don't care.

I don't care.

I don't care.

I'm just going to keep telling myself that.

If I tell myself that long enough it will be true.

I don't care.

I don't care.

I don't care.

I don't care.

I don't care.

I don't care.

I don't care.

I don't care.

I don't care.

I don't care.

I don't care.

I don't care.

I don't care.

I don't care.

I don't care.

I don't care.

I don't care.

I feel a hand on my shoulder.

I turn around sharply.

Charlie recoils.

I deadpan him,

"What?"

He looks nervous.

Upset.

Guilty,

"Ian, I..."

He stops.

Scared of my reaction.

I speak slowly, not daring to trust,

"You don't have to apologize to me kid. I respect your wishes. I'll just go".

He cringes slightly.

The elevator opens.

Neither of us move.

He breaks the silence,

"I have to go down too, so...".

We cautiously step onto the elevator.

I push the floor button and the doors close.

I glance at him.

He quickly looks away.

He was staring at me.

I feel a slight smile flicker on my lips.

I bounce back quickly.

One of my more annoying traits.

But back to the kid.

Now that he's gotten over the initial shock, he's curious.

Whether he wants me to or not, I intrigue him.

He wants to know more.

He wants to know what I know.

Why I do what I do.

Why I want what I want.

He looks nervous.

He's still scared.

I fight my desire.

Not yet.

He quickly turns and catches my gaze.

I smirk,

"Am I creeping you out Professor?"

His eyes narrow.

He knows this game.

And he knows that I will win.

I can't contain the large, evil grin spreading over my face.

He glances nervously at the floor number.

Five.

He glances back at me.

I grin.

He gulps.

He fixes his eyes on the ever so slowly changing floor numbers.

Hoping that if he ignores me I'll leave him alone.

Pretty stupid for a genius.

I silently raise my hand and sneak it behind him.

Then all of a sudden I grab his shoulder.

He jumps out of his skin and whirls around.

I smirk.

I squeeze his shoulder.

He tries to shrug my hand off.

I'm not swayed.

He glances nervously back up at me.

I gently move my hand to the back of his neck and began to massage.

I immediately realize I've done something right.

His eyes roll back into his head and he begins to whimper with pleasure.

It takes every bit of self-control I have not to start laughing.

I glance at the floor number.

Three.

I move behind him and use both hands to massage his neck.

He's shaking with pleasure now.

I can't help it.

I start laughing.

He turns and looks quizzically at me.

I just laugh harder.

I manage to get a grip before we reach the ground floor.

We reach the door when he smacks his forehead.

"Oh dammit. My car's not here. I rode with Don".

I look sideways at him,

"You can ride with me if you want to".

He looks at me.

I smirk,

"Just keep in mind that I drop you off on the side of the road if you start up with your voodoo math talk".

He can't help but smile.

We step outside into the night.

Not a very dark night.

Not in LA.

But night, none the same.

I unlock my SUV and Charlie nervously gets in.

We leave.

He sits staring at his hands, silent.

I glance at him.

He looks lost in thought.

Math voodoo.

After a few minutes he surprises me by speaking up,

"Ian, I shouldn't have...I shouldn't have gotten so angry. You really didn't do anything wrong".

I glance disbelievingly at him,

"Kid, I pretty much sexually harassed you. I'd say I did something wrong".

He looks at me, his large brown eyes serious.

"The thing is Ian, it was just that...well, I wasn't expecting you to..."

He didn't finish.

I keep my eyes on the road,

"To kiss you?"

I don't look at him but I know he's nodding.

He fidgets,

"Ian, I...for the longest time...I um, have kinda..."

I look at him,

"Kinda what?"

I look back at the road.

He sounds extremely uncomfortable,

"Kinda...um, kinda had a, um...well...a crush on you".

My hands tighten on the wheel and my foot rams the brakes.

The SUV slams to a halt.

I stare at him helplessly.

He gives me a sheepish smile.

I hear some people honking at me so I push the gas and go.

There is a thick awkward silence.

I break it, well aware that my voice has risen three octaves,

"You. You have a crush. On me. A crush on me. You have a crush on me?".

He nods, obviously disturbed by my uncharacteristically vulnerable tone of voice,

"For a long time".

I stop for a stoplight.

I lay my head down on the wheel,

"When did you...?"

He glances at me,

"When did I what?"

I swallow,

"When did you first know you...you had a crush on me".

He shrugs,

"The first time I met you".

I look at him.

He smiles,

"The moment I first saw you, you were just standing there with your hands in your pockets. You were so smooth and cool. And I amused you. You were genuinely amused by me. From then on I had the biggest crush on you. I think I did a good job of hiding it".

I stare at him,

"Me too. I mean, the first time we met. But I knew it when I told you that we Snipers love what we do, and that it wasn't a guess, it was a fact and you gave me that look like you thought I was some kind of gun-loving retard".

He grins,

"We are some strange gay guys".

I don't disagree,

"Yes we are. Some very strange gay guys".

The light turns green.

I go.

All of a sudden I swerve off the road and into a back parking lot.

Charlie looks at me,

"Why did we stop?"

I give him a look.

He blinks,

"Oh".

I run my fingers through his hair and grin,

"I'm gonna enjoy this".

He swallows,

"Ian, I want to do this, but..."

I lean down and caress his cheek with my lips,

"But what Professor?"

He shivers at our proximity,

"I've never done this before. I mean, not with a guy".

I bring my face down so we're eye to eye and grin,

"It's just like it is with a girl, except you really gotta fight for domination".

I grab him and force my lips on his.

He whimpers.

He moans.

He shakes.

He shivers.

I growl.

I hiss.

I tense.

I rub.

He leans upwards.

He wraps his arms around my neck.

He moans needily.

He whimpers adoringly.

I lean downward.

I clutch his hair.

I moan with pleasure.

I growl forcefully.

He removes his lips from mine and starts sucking on my ear.

I chuckle with amusement.

I tug on his hair.

He grunts.

I laugh.

He nibbles.

I moan.

He nips.

I whimper.

He laughs.

I twist.

I've got him in my lap now.

I wrap my arms around him and whisper into his ear,

"Your mine now Professor Eppes".

He shivers,

"Yes, I think I am".

I bury my face in the crook of his neck.

I begin to suckle.

He shivers again.

I smile,

"I've got you now".

He turns to look at me,

"No you don't. I have you".

And I realize he's right.

edge edge edge edge edge edge edge edge edge edge edge edge edge edge edge edge edge edge

A.N: Alright. Admit that I'm awesome. You know I am.

LOL. JK.

I hope this inspires you. I may update again sometime. I'm not sure. I'm going to leave the actual sex for you to imagine.

Review goshdarnnitt!!!!! Reviews will make me update!!!!!


	4. Leave Now

Hunter

by Spirit of a Child

A.N.: Okay. A new chapter sooner than I thought. I got bored. So, whatever. I'm hoping to kinda answer some questions in this one. MaeLace asked me a question and I intend to answer it. Through the world's most adorable mathematician's POV.

dramatic music plays and thunder crashes

Da da da DOM!!!

Yeah, I wanted to shake things up a little. See what the adorable genius with the cute butt is thinking _(Edgie says "Ass", I say "Butt". I like to think of myself as more refined than our favorite Sniper instructor from Quantico, but I'm really not. I'm worse)_. I mean, other than voodoo _(I love how Edgie **((I'm going to call him that now)) **says that. It's so LMFAO funny)_ math of course. Do not expect math junk. I suck at math. I'm still trying to master Pi.

Anywho.

On wid de show.

p.s. I'm counting on you to back me up SushiChi. Please don't take too long. :-P:::::::: XD

45742x-2128

He's mine.

All mine.

He's loved me just as long as I've loved him.

Wow.

Incredible.

Inconceivable.

Unbelievable.

It's just.

Simply amazing.

Simply wonderful.

Simply, well, great.

For lack of a better word.

I can't even concentrate on the board I'm so excited.

The last few days have been amazing.

He had to stay for the court case.

Because he shot the perpetrator.

Idiot.

Loveable idiot, none the less.

He has to testify.

Which means he hangs around here more.

At night.

Then Don gets drunk and Dad goes to bed.

And it's just us.

Simply incredible.

But...

Then I stop.

What will everyone else think?

What will Don think?

What will Dad think?

What will Larry think?

What will Amita-?

OMIGOSH AMITA!!!!!

What am I going to tell her?

What am I going to do?

I can't leave her.

But I can't leave Ian.

And I can't have both of them.

I'm going to have to pick one.

I can't handle this!!

I sit down and rest my head in my hands.

I can hear the three of them up there in the living room.

Having fun.

Drinking beer.

Laughing.

Drinking beer.

Telling really lame jokes then laughing at them.

Did I mention drinking beer?

I like beer.

But I like coffee better.

Much, much better.

I wonder if Ian likes coffee.

I've seen him drink it.

But does he REALLY like it.

Probably not.

Probably not as much as I do.

Never as much as I do.

If he loved coffee that much, he would be the perfect man.

The perfect man.

He already is.

But he would be even more perfect.

I sigh.

I feel of the still warm hickeys covering my neck.

The perfect man.

But anyway.

I'm rambling.

As usual.

There is a soft knock on the door frame.

I look up.

It's Amita.

She smiles and sits beside me,

"Why aren't you up there with the rest of them".

I try to smile as she kisses me.

I kiss her back.

I love her.

I really do.

I adore her with all my heart.

The only problem is that I love Ian with all my heart too.

Wait.

I really must be shaken up.

Because that is mathematically impossible.

I have one heart.

They cannot both have all of it.

It defies logic.

Then again, so does love.

Okay.

I love Amita with one half of my heart.

And Ian with the other.

No wonder I feel so torn up.

I'm snapped out of my reverie by Amita touching my nose with the tip of her finger,

"Whatcha thinking 'bout?"

I smile at her,

"My Cognitive Emergence work".

She rolled her eyes,

"I am very glad that my man is such a genius, but I wonder if he'll ever come out of his little bubble".

I smile at her,

"That depends. Does he have anything to look forward to if he comes out?"

She gently strokes my cheek,

"Well, he might if he would take the time".

I lean over and kiss her,

"What if he did take the time?"

She giggles,

"Hmm, I'll have to get back to you on that one".

We wrap our arms around each other and slowly kiss.

She clutches my curls and tugs slightly.

My stomach lurches.

I pull away, unable to continue.

She looks at me,

"Charlie, what is it? What's wrong?"

I shook my head, avoiding her gaze,

"Nothing, I just feel...nothing".

She tries to speak but I get up and walk away.

I can't even bear to kiss her anymore.

What's wrong with me?

Simple.

I'm gay.

Why do I have to be gay?

Why couldn't my hormones just settle on heterosexuality?

Damn, I would even go for bisexuality right now.

Can't I control my own sexuality?

You would think so.

But I can't.

I love her.

I love her more than I have loved any other woman.

But I can't get close to her.

I can't touch her the same way.

I can't kiss her the same way.

I can't talk to her the same way.

Why me?

She touches my shoulder,

"What's wrong Charlie? What happened? What happened baby?"

I shake my head,

"Nothing Amita, I just...I just feel like being by myself for a while. Could you...?"

She nods and leaves.

But not before stroking me gently.

So sweet.

So beautiful.

So näive.

I love her.

Oh how I love her.

But I can't be near her.

Suddenly I can't breathe.

I sink down on the couch as she leaves.

I can't move.

I can't breathe.

I can't feel.

I feel so empty.

Like a cold shell.

Amita would never forgive me.

She could never love me if she knew what I was.

What I am.

What I know that I always will be.

I need to be touched.

But she's gone.

I need to be stroked.

But she left.

I need to be held.

But she's not here.

I would sob.

I would cry.

But I feel nothing.

I feel nothing but emptiness.

Something touches my back.

I whirl around.

Startled.

Frightened.

Embarrassed.

But it's Ian.

Looking questioningly at me.

I hold back the tears,

"Where's the rest?"

He grins slightly,

"Stoned".

I nod knowingly.

He runs his fingers through my hair.

How does he know?

How does he always know exactly what I need?

When I need to be left alone he leaves me alone.

When I need to be held he holds me.

When I need to cry he offers his shoulder.

He really is the perfect man.

Damn I love him.

I look at him, still fighting the tears,

"Ian, could you-"

My voice breaks and the tears start to fall.

He gently pulls me into his arms.

I submit.

He never ceases to amaze me.

He would shoot a man down and not blink.

He would torture anyone he needed to for information.

But he holds me tenderly in his arms when I cry.

He loves me.

He doesn't just see me as a toy.

He sees me as the man he loves.

Or boy, as he puts it.

I just cry.

He doesn't ask me what happened.

Doesn't say a word.

Just holds me.

Just strokes my hair.

I sit for a moment, the pull from his grasp.

He tugs gently on my curls,

"You wanna talk about it kid?"

I open my mouth.

The only thing that comes out is a low whine.

He tips my face up and kisses me.

I make a soft satisfied noise.

He chuckles into my mouth,

"You are so predictable".

I lean up.

Needing him.

He allows me to kiss for a few minutes, then pulls away,

"What happened kid?"

I look down, not wanting to tell him.

He kisses the top of my head,

"Amita came up looking hurt. Did you fight?"

I shook my head,

"She came down here, and we were talking...and she kissed me. But I couldn't".

I look up pleadingly at Ian,

"Please understand. I love you. But I love her. I could never love anyone as much as I love her. But I...I couldn't. I couldn't do it. I tried to kiss her, but it felt so...wrong".

Distress enters my voice,

"And what's worse is that if she knew, she would hate me! She would never speak to me again, she would tell the whole world and leave me!"

He gently wraps his arms around me,

"Shhhhh, shhhhh, shhhhh, it's okay. She wouldn't".

I nod into his chest,

"Yes she would. She would hate me. And I love her so much. I adore her with all my body, mind, and soul. Nothing could ever make me stop loving her. But she would hate me".

I'm too miserable to be humiliated.

And I should be.

I am whining and crying like a three-year-old.

Ian is a saint.

That's an odd image.

A saint with a sniper rifle.

But he's still a saint.

He just holds me,

"What if I proved you wrong Professor?"

I look up at him,

"Whatcha mean?"

He looks over at the stairs going up to the kitchen.

I twist around.

Amita is standing right there with a slightly shocked, slightly bemused look on her face.

I moan and curl up on the couch, trying to cover my head with a pillow.

There are soft footsteps.

I feel a small soft hand on my back,

"Look at me".

Her voice is quiet and calm.

She doesn't sound angry.

Or sad.

Just confused.

I pull the pillow down harder.

She lightly tugs on it.

I don't budge.

She pauses.

Then she does the worst thing in the world.

She tickles me.

I shriek and squirm around in a most unmasculine way.

Because I'm gay.

I'm actually getting used to this.

Being gay and all.

She flips me over and pins me down,

"Stay".

Ian had a slightly wary, slightly amused look on his face.

Ignore what I said about him being a saint.

He is the devil.

An even more disturbing thought.

The devil with a sniper rifle.

Scary.

Damn.

I fell in love with the devil.

Double damn.

I glare at him.

He shrugs.

I hiss,

"Traitor".

He looks guilty.

That's a first.

I didn't even know he was capable of that emotion.

He tries to shrug it off,

"What can I say kid? You got yourself one helluva girlfriend. Very impressive when she's pissed off".

I can't disagree.

She is beautiful beyond comprehension.

She is like a beautiful exotic rose.

But when she's angry.

That's another story.

She is still beautiful.

But she is dangerous beauty.

A deadly beauty.

She glares at him.

He shrugs again.

She turns her gaze back to me,

"Talk".

It's one word.

One simple word.

It's not complicated.

Just four letters.

Three consonants and a vowel.

But that one word held so much.

I looked down.

She grabbed my face between her hands and yanked my head up,

"TALK!!!"

I flinched.

She was angry now.

I knew she would be.

How could Ian tell her?

Damn him.

Damn her.

Damn all of them.

Mom.

If mom was here, she'd still love me.

She'd accept me.

She'd just get in Dad's and Donny's face and tell them to suck it up.

She'd love me no matter what I was.

What I am.

Damn I miss her.

She'd make it all better.

She always could.

I suddenly wince in pain as a sharp stinging sensation shoots through my cheek.

Amita slapped me.

Ian would not allow that.

He grabs her and wrestles her off of me,

"Don't you dare do that again!"

He snarls.

He's angry now.

So angry.

I can see it in his eyes.

I love him.

Dammit I love him.

I love how he's so protective of me.

But he can't hurt Amita.

I won't let him.

I see fear flicker through her eyes.

She realizes now.

Realizes that she's going to be 'punished'.

Punished for hurting me.

He wraps his arm around her neck and pulls tight.

She gasps for air.

I cry out,

"Ian don't. Ian, Ian...IAN DON'T HURT HER!!!"

I practically scream.

I am suddenly glad that it's very hard for the people upstairs to hear what is going on in the basement.

He stops squeezing.

Looks at me.

Sees the fear in my eyes.

The desperation.

The painful love that I hold for the woman he's hurting.

She sobs weakly, barely able to breathe.

I moan,

"Please Ian, don't hurt her. Please don't hurt her. Please".

I'm sobbing.

I reach out to her.

My fingers brush her cheek.

Something in his eyes snaps.

He begins to pull his arm tighter around her neck.

She tries to scream but can't.

I know what he's doing.

He's angry.

He's upset.

He's jealous.

He's jealous that I care for her.

I care for him.

I love him.

But I can't give him that when he's doing this.

I won't let him hurt her.

I get up and try to wrestle her from his arms.

He pulls tighter.

I lash out.

I throw myself at him, fists swinging.

I realize I've hit him as he grunts and lets go of her.

I catch her and pull her over to the couch, laying her down.

I put my hand over her mouth as she screams and sobs.

Nobody can know about this.

Nobody.

All feelings of wrongness that I had had the last time I touched her were gone.

I stroked her lovingly,

"Shhhhh, shhhhh, it's okay. It's okay".

I stroke and kiss her, crying.

I know Ian.

I should have known that he would act like this.

He is a good man.

There is no doubting that in my mind.

But he's possessive.

Obsessive.

Controlling.

Protective.

He has a quick temper.

A deadly temper.

I love him and he loves me.

But I can't have him if he does this.

I clutch Amita to my chest.

I turn.

Look at him.

He's clutching his eye.

I must have punched him there.

He looks at me.

The anger in his eyes fades away.

It's replaced by sadness.

Guilt.

Grief.

Love.

Fear.

Sorrow.

Repentance.

Acceptance.

But I can't forgive him just yet.

Not after what he tried to do.

I stroke Amita silently.

She just shakes.

He doesn't say a word.

Just sits there.

Waiting for me to yell.

But I don't,

"Leave".

That's all I say to him.

He blinks.

My voice his cold and my face blank,

"Leave now".

He slowly gets to his feet.

Looks at me.

Looks at her.

Then back at me.

"I'm sorry",

he whispers hoarsely.

Amita moans into my chest.

I look down at her and kiss the top of her head.

My head snaps up.

I know that I'm radiating anger and rage,

"Leave now Ian".

He opens his mouth.

But I don't let him say anything,

"Leave now Ian. Leave now, and never come back".

He's shocked at the loathing in my voice.

Truthfully, so am I.

Amita stops shaking.

She stays still, quiet.

And Ian leaves.

I stroke Amita's hair.

She looks up at me.

I see love in her eyes.

Pain.

Sadness.

She's sorry that she started the whole thing.

Poor baby.

Poor sweet lovely little beautiful creature.

How I love her.

She wipes her eyes and sits up.

Tries to be strong.

Strong for me.

She kisses me,

"I'm so sorry Charlie. I'm just so sorry".

I stroke her lips with my fingers,

"No Amita, I'm sorry"

45742x-2128

A.N.: Okay. Don't be too mad at me. I didn't know that that was going to happen. It just kinda happened when I wrote it. My fingers were just innocently dancing across the keys when **_BAM!!!!_** Amita slaps Charlie and Edgie attacks her. And I'm all like, "Whoa, dude. Where'd that come from? That was random". Okay. Fic earns rating in next chappy. Lotsa swearing on Edgie's part. He's pissed off at himself. I do not leave cliffies for months on end!! I usually update within a week or two or three. Review!!!! Review goshdarnnit!!

P.S.- **HELP WANTED**!!!!! Am taking requests. Would like to know where you would like the story to go. Will dedicate next chappies to the peeps who inspire them. TTFN.

P.P.S.- Snaps to the first person who answers that little equation I randomly made up to be the divider. And maybe an extra mentioning in the next chapter. (for whatever it's worth).

Namarie melonnin.

EDGIE RULES YO!!!!


	5. Retarded

Hunter

by Spirit of a Child

A.N.: Still bored and lovin' my story. Just to repeat myself. I own nothing. Minor, remember. No money was made off of this. Though it would be really sweet if there was (legally of course. But you can't legally, so...). Anywho, wasn't inspired on this chapter so I can't really think of who to dedicate it to. Edgie is gonna be repeating himself a lot this round. And cussin' himself out. So beware.

edge edge edge edge edge edge edge

I am so retarded.

C'mon Ian.

You couldn't have held your temper for five minutes.

Dammit.

Double dammit.

Infinity dammit!!!

I am such a shithead.

When did I become such a shithead?

I am such a retarded little dick.

What in the hell is wrong with me?

Why did I have to do that?

Why did I have to make him hate me.

I love him.

Damn I love him.

And the fact that he loves me-

Well.

The fact that he loved me.

Past tense.

And I repeat.

I am a dick.

No.

Wait.

I got it.

A dick head fag perv.

That's what I am.

A dick head fag perv.

Why do I always have to screw everything up?

Why?

If there is a God up there...

Well.

I won't even go there.

So he won't strike me down with lightening.

Or whatever he does to retarded faggots like me.

Why does he hate me?

Probably because I'm gay.

I sit in my car.

My head in my hands.

I could just eat my gun to make the pain stop.

But what would that accomplish?

Nothing.

I wouldn't be able to apologize.

Well.

I could put that in my suicide note.

But still.

I wasn't really going to hurt the girl.

I know the limits of the human body.

I would strangle her until she started convulsing, then let her go.

If you wait until the convulsing stops, they're already dead.

If I waited until she had just started then she would just lay on the floor and sob and clutch her throat.

Okay.

I am cold.

I admit that.

But still.

I wasn't gonna kill her.

I wouldn't hurt her too bad.

I am such a faggy little dickhead.

Why do I have to screw everything up?

Why?

Why dammit, why?!?

I begin to do something that I have not done in years.

I cry.

My shoulders heave and I feel the warm tears moistening my hands.

I don't make a sound.

Just cry.

I don't know how long I cry for.

I just cry.

He hates me.

He has every right to hate me.

I attacked her.

I could have just pulled her away after she slapped him.

I could've just held her firm so she wouldn't do it again.

But no.

I had to strangle her.

I had to hurt her.

I had to make him angry.

Damn.

I have never seen him that angry.

Double damn.

It was almost scary.

Triple damn.

The only time he's not unbearably adorable is when he's that mad.

I wipe the tears away.

I can't be seen like this.

I have a reputation to keep.

I could leave.

I could go find an empty motel room.

I hadn't even rented one because I knew I'd be with Charlie.

My sweet little Charlie.

But of course no one can know that I call him that.

Not even he can know that.

I wanted to tell the others.

Charlie was terrified of the idea.

He still has a heterosexual reputation.

I could tell he was humiliated that Amita knew.

Poor thing.

I love him.

But he hates me.

He'll never forgive me.

Never.

edge edge edge edge edge edge edge

A.N.:I need ideas on the next chapter!!!! I TOLD YOU THAT I DON'T TAKE FOREVER!!!!!! Oh yeah. And MaeLace was the first to answer the problem. But she got something different from what I got. I got 3351, what about you? And Sushi Chi answered it too. YAY REVIEWERS!!!! I love reviewers.

Does a happy dance

Ummm...you didn't see that. LOL. HELP STILL WANTED!!!


	6. Loves Me For Me

Hunter

by Spirit of a Child

A.N.: Still bored and random. I got some great ideas from lotsa peeps. I dedicate this chapter to Mae Lace for her awesome idea to have one from Amita's POV, and to Sushi Chi for her awesome ideas that I am going to channel. Am not ignoring people!!! Other ideas will be used for later chapters!!!! Especially Set()'s. I like that one. Very Edgie-ish. LOL. Am trying to fix format so easier to read. I realized that lines are too close together. Feel very stupid right now.

ami ami ami ami ami ami ami

* * *

My boyfriend is gay.

I'm surprisingly calm right now.

Taking into accounts what just happened to me.

Son of a bitch tried to kill me

But Charlie saved me.

My white knight in shining armor.

Okay.

Call me cheesy.

But I like to think that.

But he did save me.

Sweet baby.

I love him.

And he's all mine.

Don't care what that retard sniper does.

Charlie's mine.

Am I too possessive?

I mean, Charlie is my boyfriend.

Edgerton can't have him.

I love him too much.

I found out my boyfriend was gay.

I am seriously PMSing.

Edgerton tried to kill me.

And yet somehow I'm the one holding Charlie while he cries his eyes out.

Life is strange.

But I don't mind holding him.

At least he's not sniffling and crying on that dick head.

He's crying on me.

I don't really enjoy having my shirt soaked.

But at least he's not getting Edgerton's shirt wet.

And I love him.

So I don't mind to much.

He's stopped crying.

He's just laying in my arms.

Sometimes it scares me how vulnerable he is.

He isn't always so vulnerable.

Just sometimes.

Usually he's good natured and sweet.

Gentle and kind.

Intelligent and rational.

But sometimes he gets upset.

He just sits there and cries like a terrified five-year-old.

And it's not pathetic.

It's not like you look at him and think,

'What a cry baby. He needs to be a man'.

You look at him and realize that he can't help it.

He's just so vulnerable.

Hiding underneath the mask of kindness and genius is a fragile young man.

A fragile young man who's still trying to find his way around this crazy world.

I'm not saying he's out of touch with reality.

It's that he's too much in touch with reality.

He understands too much about our world and who we are.

And it scares him.

And I don't blame him.

He wraps his arms around me and whimpers.

I hold him close.

He pulls himself up, still clinging to my neck, and snuggles up against me.

I suppress a sigh.

I love him so damn much.

I look at him.

He blinks meekly at me.

His puffy eyes sad and lonely.

How in the hell can you resist that?!?!?

I stroke him gently.

He buries his mouth in the front of my shoulder.

Still watching me with his big sad puppy dog eyes.

I lean down, gently kissing him,

"What happened?"

He looks down and shies away.

I probably shouldn't have slapped him.

Now he's scared of me.

My poor little Charlie baby.

I keep stroking him,

"I'm not gonna hitcha 'gain. What happened?".

He snuggles up against me.

Trying to avoid the question.

I tip his chin up,

"Answer me".

I put authority in my voice.

I need answers.

He whimpers.

Looking at me with those lonely eyes.

Damn, I love him.

He opens his mouth and whispers hoarsely,

"I love him".

Three words.

Three simple words.

But three words can hold a lot of power.

I pull away gently.

Looking at him.

He looks even more lonely now that I'm not holding him.

I cup his cheek in my hand.

He starts to shake again.

I stroke him.

He closes his eyes.

He reaches up and gently strokes my chin.

His fingers explore the soft curves of my neck.

I hum contentedly,

"Do you love me?"

The words slip out before I know what I said.

He looks at me.

I see pain in his eyes.

I see fear.

I see confusion.

But most of all.

I see love.

He loves Edgerton.

But he loves me too.

Well.

I suppose part of his love is better than none.

He's such a dear sweet thing.

How can I help but fall desperately in love with him?

He pulls me close.

He strokes my hair.

I feel him shake.

Suddenly I feel a slight moistness on top of my head.

He's crying.

I hug him tightly.

He buries his face in my hair,

"I love you. I could never stop loving you Amita. It's so hard. It's so hard to have to decide".

I look at him.

Scared.

I whisper,

"What do you mean? What do you have to decide?"

My voice shakes.

I know what he has to decide.

But I don't want to have to face it.

Tears are pouring down his face.

He kisses me,

"I have to choose between the man I love, and the woman I love. And I don't think I can do it. I love you both too damn much".

As much pain and grief as I am feeling.

I am still rather curious.

And angry.

Don't forget angry.

Edgerton tried to kill me.

How can Charlie still love him?

How can Charlie just forgive him for that?

Why does he have to be in love with that FBI idiot?

Why couldn't he be in love with me?

I know he is.

But couldn't he have fallen in love with me with his whole heart?

That's what hurts me the most.

I look down.

The hurt is overwhelming.

I whisper,

"How can you love him after...after what he did to me?"

I look back up.

I can tell that he REALLY doesn't want to answer that question.

I shake him, starting to cry myself,

"How can you forgive him when he tried to kill me? How can you do that Charlie? How?!?!?"

I fall into his grasp.

What a pair we are.

Just clutching each other.

Crying our hearts out.

He strokes me, talking through his tears,

"He wasn't going to kill you Amita. I know him. He will kill without batting an eye. But that's when he needs to. He was probably just going to strangle you long enough that you would start having a panic attack and then let you go. He wouldn't kill you Amita. He doesn't kill without reason".

I clutch Charlie, the tears beginning to slow,

"

How do you know that he wouldn't kill me?"

He brings me up, kissing me deeply,

"Because he is a good man. He just has a temper. He'll threaten and lash out in a rage. But he wouldn't kill you for slapping me. He was just angry. He felt helpless. And that made him angry".

I stroke him tenderly.

I've cried so hard and long, I don't think I can shed another tear.

I don't think he can either.

We hold each other.

Not sure what else to do.

I kiss him gently.

I kiss his forehead.

I kiss his cheek.

I kiss his chin.

I kiss his nose.

I kiss his other cheek.

I kiss his brow.

I kiss his eyelids.

I kiss his ear.

I kiss his jaw.

I kiss his cheek again.

He sits with his eyes closed.

A slight contented smile tinging his lips.

Adorable lips.

I kiss them.

It almost feels like before.

Almost.

He wraps his arms all the way around me.

His tongue rubs my upper lip.

Asking permission to enter.

I submit.

My lips part and his tongue darts in.

He teasingly flicks at my tongue with his.

I meekly move my tongue forward.

He moves his.

My next reaction is the inevitable gasp of pleasure when he rubs the tip of mine with his.

I reluctantly pull away.

Charlie isn't so willing.

He tries to latch on.

But I escape.

He pouts adorably at me,

"Meanie".

I touch him and smile sadly,

"Charlie. Don and your Dad need to know about you and Edgerton".

He stiffens.

I see the terror in his eyes.

He shakes his head frantically,

"No, no, no, no, no, no".

I kiss him,

"I could tell them if you want".

He keeps shaking his head.

I see something in his eyes that makes me drop the subject.

I'll bring it up later.

He holds me and we just sit.

So my boyfriend's gay.

Who cares?

He still loves me.

And that's what counts.

ami ami ami ami ami ami

* * *

A.N.: Sorry about the makeout scene. That's just something I've always wanted to do to that delectable man!!!!

(-: shivers happily :-)

I am a mega Charlita shipper fan. I love making up stupid names for shippers!!!! wOOt!! Sushi Chi doesn't like Amita, so sorry Sush!!! I just had to do that!!!!! HELP STILL WANTED!!!

HAVE IDEAS?

REQUESTS?

ISSUES WITH IT?

FOUND A MISTAKE?

TELL IT LIKE IT IS!!!!!!


	7. Apologies

Hunter

by Spirit of a Child

A.N.: Okay. Once again I had a realization. IT'S NOT HARD TO READ!!!!! I FEEL EVEN MORE STUPIDER NOW!!!!!!

:-( sighs )-:

Okay. I'm better now. Hope I didn't scare you off with my horrible grammar.

XD...

Okay moving on.

This chapter is going to dedicated to both Set() (please give me a better name hon), and Sushi Chi. My reviewer peeps (which also includes Maelace and other people who I forget at the moment but who rock).

Thanks to Set() for the apology idea.

And thanks to Sushi for the really long awesome idea(s) that you sent.

Y'ALL ROCK!!!

w00t!!!!

Hyper hyper hyper hyper hyper.

Yay hyper!!!!

Edgie's back at the wheel.

edge edge edge edge edge edge edge edge

Stupid bureaucracy.

When you work in the legal system most of your career you kinda get out of the loop on how it's gotten worse.

So it's kinda expected that I should be surprised at how screwed up our legal system is.

Yeah.

It's screwed up.

Grrrrrr.

The trial has been prolonged.

Once again.

Because the plaintiff bribed some of the jurors.

Once again.

Man this sucks.

Well.

Maybe it doesn't suck too bad.

Not compared to my life at the moment.

I have been reduced to sneaking glances at Charlie's ass.

And trying to hide my drool in my shirt.

Which doesn't work well.

How sad is that?

Very sad.

Amita has been with him wherever he goes.

Probably trying to protect him from me.

And he just meekly goes along with it.

Damn.

I really screwed him up.

I've punished myself in a duly manner.

I have completely taken myself off of sodas, chocolate, and even coffee.

It's hell.

I love my sodas, chocolate, and coffee.

I miss it.

The only problem with Amita shadowing him is that I can't get near him.

And I need to apologize.

I tried.

But I was apprehended.

By Amita.

She didn't say a word to me.

Which is actually pretty damn scary.

I'll have to find another way to apologize.

I glance at Megan, who hasn't said word one to me.

She's drinking coffee.

That's it.

I'll give him coffee.

He likes coffee doesn't he?

Not as much as me.

But still.

He likes it.

I smile to myself.

And I wait.

The day passes dully.

Nothing to do when there's no trials.

And for once.

For once ever.

Amita is not with him.

What pissed me off more than the fact that she was with him.

Damn.

She was all handsy with him.

She had her arms all wrapped around him.

Feeling off him.

Just rubbing her hands over his chest.

Damn that pissed me off.

But anyway.

Rambling.

I have coffee.

And it's all I can do not to drink it.

I leave it on his desk.

I pause.

How's he gonna know it's from me.

I frown.

Then I grab a sticky note and a pen.

Sorry,

I write.

I stick it to the coffee cup and leave.

I never knew how good apologizing would feel.

I grab a beer with Don.

He doesn't have a clue.

Good thing too.

I drive back to my motel room and go to sleep.

The next morning when I get in to the bullpen I get a surprise.

There is a steaming latte on my desk with a note on the side.

I forgive you

It says.

I smile.

But then I frown.

There's something written on the back.

But don't do that again

I can't help but smile at that.

I won't.

But Amita doesn't know that.

I wonder if Charlie's explained us to her?

She probably bugged him until he did.

Or he could have lied and said that I sexually harassed him.

But I don't think he did.

But he forgives me.

And that's all that matters.

edge edge edge edge edge edge edge

A.N: Writing this was terrifying. See my fic "A Seriously PO'd Sniper Instructor" for details. LOL. Next one might be weird.


	8. The End not really

Hunter

by Spirit of a Child

A.N.: I did not want to write this chapter. Please read "A Seriously POd Sniper Instructor" before you read this chapter. It will make so much more sense. Trust me. It will.

edge edge edge edge edge edge

It turned out that Edgerton was not gay.

And that Charlie wasn't either.

Charlie and Amita got back together.

Everything returned to normal.

And nobody was gay.

The End

edge edge edge edge edge edge

A.N.: Misery!!!!! NOOOOOO!!!!!!! It burns us!!! It burns us!!! Nooo!!! Nasty cruel mean Sniperses!!!!! It buuuuuurrrrrrrrrnnnnnsssss!!!!!!!

I hate this chapter. Period. Not what I wanted to put. Grrrrrr.


	9. The Truth of it All

Hunter

By Spirit of a Child

A.N: Charlie and Amita moment. No makeout scenes at Nevair's request. But she didn't seem to mind the idea of Charlie\Edgie makeout scenes. (laughs evilly). Not this chapter though. Or the next. Pity. Maybe the one after that...

123123123123

Why am I coming back to him?

He's only going to be staying another few weeks.

He drives me nuts.

Those slight suggestive smiles.

The way he never takes his eyes off of me.

The way he always finds an excuse to be too close to me.

The subtle caresses when nobody's looking.

I try to ignore him.

I try to stay away from him.

But I can't.

He fascinates me to no end.

He's entrancing.

I love Amita.

I really do.

But she's never leaned down and suckled on my ear the way he does.

She's never whispered into my lips, telling me that I'm beautiful.

She's never looked at me the way he does.

She's just not Ian.

She seems to think that she can pull me away from him.

She thinks that the long talks about my feelings will bring me back to her.

Somehow, they're driving me away.

I'm so tired of it.

Can't she just drop it?

I look up.

She's staring at me,

"Charlie, have you been listening to a word I've been saying?"

I blush,

"Um...yeah".

She raises her eyebrows,

"Mmm-hmm. And what was I saying".

I blush harder.

She sighs,

"Charlie, can't you at least try?"

"Try what?!?"

My voice rises.

She buries her head in her hands,

"Do you love me?"

I blanch,

"Of course I do Amita. Why wouldn't I?"

She looks up at me, her eyes sad,

"Because you love him".

I look down.

I don't want to have to face up to this.

"Amita"

I beg her.

She doesn't flinch,

"Charlie, look at me".

I slowly look back up.

Her chocolate brown eyes are filled with anger and sorrow,

"Just tell me Charlie, what is it about Ian?"

I look helplessly at her,

"He's just..."

I can't bring myself to finish the sentence.

I know what it is about him.

But I don't want to tell her.

She tips my chin up again,

"Is he more appealing than I am?"

I open my mouth to reply.

But then I really look at her.

Tears are beginning to drip down her beautiful face.

I close my mouth and reach up to wipe the tears away.

She begins to sob quietly,

"Am I not good enough? Does he make you feel more loved? Does he make you feel more cared for? Is he more sexually pleasing? Does he touch you more? Does he buy you more gifts? What am I doing wrong? I love you so much Charlie. I can't live without you. Please don't leave me. I'll do anything you want. I'll change for you Charlie. Please don't leave me".

Her entire body is wracked with sobs.

I pull her into my arms and gently stroke her hair,

"Hush, hush, hush. It's okay. I'm not going to leave you. I'm staying right here. Don't worry Amita, I'm here. I love you too. Hush, don't cry sweetheart".

She cries into my neck.

I hold her lovingly.

Alright.

I must admit she can be kind of annoying.

She can be possessive.

She can be bitchy.

She can be unreasonable.

But she loves me.

She's waited so long for me.

I can't abandon her.

I do love Ian.

But he's going to have to understand.

I have to take care of Amita.

I look down at her shivering form.

It scares me.

She rarely if ever breaks down like this.

She's always so strong.

Strong for me, I suppose.

She always tries to keep me from having to protect her.

She's always been so independent.

But now she's crying in my arms.

Begging me not to leave her.

Not to leave her for Ian.

She looks up at me, tears staining her warm soft cheeks.

She strokes me.

Strokes me gently.

I close my eyes.

I smile.

I kiss her gently on the lips.

But I pull away.

She pulls herself up and winds herself around me.

Stroking me.

Kissing me.

Silently pleading with me not to leave.

She nuzzles me.

She gently rests her forehead against my cheek.

I hold her.

"I'll do anything"

she whispers.

I look down and kiss the top of her head,

"You don't need to do anything. You're extraordinary the way you are. Even if I'm too stupid to see it sometimes. You don't have to do anything".

She whimpers again,

"Yes I do. If I was so wonderful you wouldn't want to leave".

I wipe the tears from her eyes,

"I don't know what I want Amita. You shouldn't have to do anything for me".

She begins crying again,

"You just don't want to tell me that you don't want me because it'll hurt my feelings".

Then it all clicked into place.

Not the fact that she was blowing it out of proportion.

Which she was.

Not the fact that she was feeling sorry for herself.

Which she was.

No.

The reason she had been so upset was because she thought that the only reason I stayed was to not hurt her feelings.

I shook my head and tipped her chin up,

"Amita. If I didn't want you, I'd tell you. Trust me. The problem isn't what I do or don't feel about you. The problem is about how to choose between the two of you. You're familiar. You're within the confines of acceptable society. You're a beautiful intelligent young woman who I could spend the rest of my life with. You're safe. But Ian...Ian's just...well, he's just Ian. There's not much more you can say about him. He's new, he's dangerous, he's exciting. You just never know what Ian's going to do. But yet he's so cool, and sure of himself. His easy stride connotes this self-assurance that goes way beyond arrogance, he's cool and collected and he knows it. But he can be at a person's throat in a split second, the smallest thing can provoke him. And to tell the truth, you can be the same way. I love you both equally. That's why it's so hard. Now stop feeling sorry for yourself, you are not attractive when you whine and sob all over me".

I kissed her gently.

Just to make sure I didn't upset her too much.

She whimpered and sat up, wiping her eyes.

She laughed softly,

"I'm such wuss aren't I?"

I kissed her again,

"Just a little".

We just clung to each other for a few minutes.

Happy to be together.

Then my phone rang.

Surprise, surprise.

I muttered into her ear,

"It could be Don. He might need something".

I picked up.

"Charlie?"

Don said.

I put my hand over the speaker and mouthed,

"I have to take this".

Amita nodded and got up and left.

I took my hand off the speaker,

"Don, what is it?"

Don paused for a moment,

"Um...I'm not sure how to approach this...but you've been acting kinda weird lately. Is anything wrong?"

Don never just calls to ask me how I am.

"Um...I'm fine Don",

Unsure how to answer him.

"Look buddy, if there's anything bothering you, anything at all, you can tell me".

Does he suspect about me and Ian?

No.

He can't.

He can't have figured it out.

I swallow,

"Um, look. Can you come over in a little bit? I'd um...like to talk to you and Dad about something".

"Sure. I'll be there in fifteen".

Don hangs up.

I sit here.

What have I done?

Amita peeks her head back in,

"Charlie, I have a bunch of midterms to grade. Will you be okay here without me?"

I give her a smile that feels forced,

"I'll be fine. Don't worry Amita".

She winks at me,

"I'll be back later. Somehow the bed doesn't feel the same without you".

I can't help but smile.

She winks again.

Then she's gone.

I sit and sigh.

I'm going to have to tell them.

I swallow.

I look up at my emergence work.

My eyes wander over the board and I notice a crucial mistake.

I get up and fix it.

I stare.

It makes so much sense now.

I begin to scribble down the equations.

My mind drifts away.

The numbers seem to scroll in front of my eyes.

Then upstairs, a door opens and shuts.

"Dad? Charlie?"

Don calls.

I swallow.

I straighten my jacket.

Then I head upstairs to break the news to them.

123123123123123123

A.N.: If you thought this had its angsty moments then you won't believe the next chapter. You ain't seen nothing yet. Mega angst next chapter. I'm thinking about giving the chapters names, just a heads up.


	10. Black Eyes and Broken Hearts

A.N.-Edgie's back. Angst alert.

edge edge edge edge edge edge edge edge edge

The inconspicuous bar.

You go there.

You drink.

You talk.

You drink more.

And nobody expects anything of you.

It's awesome.

Until your phone rings.

I sigh and answer,

"Edgerton"

"Ian?"

Comes the shaky tearful reply.

I glance around at the bar's other occupants.

Too drunk to pay attention.

But still.

"Charlie, just a second

I hurry out of the bar.

When I get outside I glance around and talk into the speaker,

"Charlie, what is it? What's wrong?"

He starts crying.

I gently hush him,

"Charlie, tell me what happened. I can't help you if I don't know what's going on".

He blubbers something about Don and his dad.

I sigh,

"Charlie, I can't understand a word you're saying. Tell me what happened? Are you hurt? Should I come and see you?"

He manages to speak in-between miserable sobs,

"Come...over...please...need...you...here".

I frown.

Something bad's happened.

"Okay sweetheart, I'm coming. Don't worry, just stay there, okay?"

I try to be as comforting as I can.

He whimpers, starting to calm a little,

"Okay, please...hurry".

I hang up and get in the car.

Something bad has happened.

I floor the gas.

I've been with the FBI since I was twenty two.

I've been in hundreds upon hundreds of dangerous situations.

I've seen innocent people slaughtered.

I've seen my best friends killed.

But I have never been this upset in my life.

I try to stay focused on the road.

His house isn't very far from the bar.

I pull up in the half-circle driveway at breakneck speed.

I nearly run into the ditch.

Dammit.

Hadn't the people who built this neighborhood ever heard of streetlights.

I get out and turn to the front door.

Charlie's waiting.

There are tears streaming down his face.

Glistening in the dim porch light, they made his beautiful face sparkle.

I'm by his side in a heartbeat,

"What's wrong? Tell me what happened"

I cup his cheek in my hand.

He looks up at me with miserable puffy eyes,

"Don..."

He looks away.

I tip his face back up,

"What about Don?"

He pulls away.

I take his hand,

"Charlie, what's happened? Tell me"

He shivers,

"Don...hates me".

I pause.

Confused.

I shake my head slowly at him,

"Why would he hate you Charlie?"

Charlie began to blubber again,

"He...knows..."

I gently stroke Charlie's face,

"He knows what Charlie?"

He leans onto me, unable to support himself any more,

"He...knows...about...me...that...I'm..."

He wraps his arms around my neck.

I hush him gently,

"He knows that you're what?"

He whimpers,

"He knows that I'm...not...straight".

I feel like I've been punched in the stomach,

"You told him?"

He extracts himself from my arms, brushing himself off,

"He knew that something was up...I knew I had to tell him, so I sat him...him and dad down to talk about it..."

I could see the tears glistening in his eyes.

I touch his cheek,

"How did your dad take it?"

Charlie began laughing and crying at the same time,

"He was fine with it, he seems supportive. But Don just..."

I sigh, running a hand through my hair,

"Is Don angry at me?"

Charlie shook his head, drying his eyes on his sleeve,

"I didn't tell them it was you. I wanted to see how they'd react to me being...I wanted to see if they'd be upset before I told them about you".

I lay a hand on his shoulder,

"Did you tell your dad about me?"

Charlie shakes his head,

"I couldn't. He's so angry at Don. They had a yelling match in the livingroom after Don had..."

Charlie turns his head, and the porch light reveals his black eye and a scratch down his face.

I grind my teeth,

"Don hit you?"

Charlie nods,

"He wasn't really trying to beat me up, he just swung a punch at me and his finger nail caught my cheek".

His eyes begin to tear up again.

I gently wipe his tears away,

"Are you going to invite me in?"

I tease him gently.

He opens the door and I step in.

Charlie holds up a finger, then turns and goes into the other room,

"Dad?"

I wait.

"Charlie, I never asked you if you were okay-"

his father begins.

But Charlie cuts him off,

"Dad, I called...um...well, my boyfriend. You've met him before, he's been here. Just don't weird out".

"Is he coming?"

Alan asks.

I take that as my cue,

"I'm already here"

I step in.

The look on Alan Eppes's face when he realizes that I'm Charlie's boyfriend is priceless.

Simply priceless.

He raises his eyebrows at Charlie.

Charlie blushes a deep carmine.

Adorable.

I smirk,

"I don't seem the type, do I?"

Alan just looks back and forth at both of us.

I walk over and lay a hand on Charlie's shoulder.

Charlie subconsciously leans back against me, lost in thought.

Alan smiles slightly and shakes his head,

"Truthfully, you were the last person I expected to come through that door. I almost expected it to be Colby"

Charlie shoots upright.

I can't help but snicker at him as he gives his father a disgusted look.

Even more priceless.

I step behind him and gently rub his shoulders.

His knees wobble.

He is so whipped.

I lean down and whisper in Charlie's ear,

"Charlie, you should probably put something on that cut. Do you have any antibiotics in your bathroom?"

He nods.

I stop rubbing and gently nudge him towards the bathroom.

He goes in and shuts the door.

I turn to Alan,

"What happened?"

Alan shakes his head,

"Donny came over and Charlie sat us down, saying he needed to talk to us. He broke the news and his brother lost it. He just started yelling at Charlie, swearing and insulting him. Charlie hadn't expected that kind of reaction and burst into tears. That made Don even angrier, and he hit Charlie. I've really never seen him that angry. I tried to stop him, but he was in a blind rage. He actually threw Charlie across the room. Charlie would have really gotten hurt if I hadn't restrained him. He's stronger than me, but I managed to keep him off of Charlie until he could calm down at least a little. As wrong as what Don did was, I can't help but understand his reaction".

I frown.

I don't like the sound of that.

"What do you mean?"

Alan sighs again,

"When Don was a kid he had a friend, Peter Danthing. They had been best friends since kindergarten, they were inseparable. Around Don and Charlie's senior year, Peter came out and expressed his undying love for Don. Don freaked out and shut himself in his room for three days. It really upset him, and he's been awkward and nervous around homosexual's ever since. It's less hate, and more fear that Don's suffering from. He's just never done something like this before".

I nod, still unconvinced.

I open my mouth.

But I'm cut off when Megan walks in.

She smiles kinda sadly,

"Sorry to intrude, but when Don stormed into the office muttering something about Charlie and fags I thought I'd check here. Is everything alright?"

I growl at her,

"No, everything is not alright. Charlie came out to Don and the latter gave Charlie a nice shiner to go along with the emotional scarring from being called a fag fifty times in every sentence".

Megan winces,

"He seemed very upset. After he stopped raging he shut himself in the bathroom. I sent Colby to spy on him. Colby said Don was sitting on the counter, with his head in his hands, shaking. But when Colby went in Don got up and tried to pretend nothing was wrong. But Colby said that he could tell Don had been crying".

"Don was crying?"

Came a meek little voice from the hall.

We turn and see Charlie looking at us with big puppy dog eyes.

He wraps his arms around himself,

"Why would Don be crying?"

He gives me his irresistible pitiful look.

I nearly start drooling here and now.

Megan goes over and gently lays her hand on his shoulder,

"It's not your fault Charlie".

She whispers.

Tears fill his giant brown eyes,

"Why was he so angry at me? He hates me now, doesn't he?"

I can't take another word.

I rush over and pull him into my arms.

I run my fingers through his hair.

He cries a little.

But he calms down.

He lays his head against my chest.

Megan smiles at us slightly, then sobers again,

"Charlie, Don doesn't hate you. It's not really you he's angry at. I think he's more scared and confused".

He blinks at her,

"Why would he be scared of me?"

She looks at me, then at Alan.

Charlie looks up at me, expectantly,

"Ian?"

I tilt my head to one side,

"Eh...let's just say that your brother has some issues with homosexuals".

"Bisexuals",

Charlie corrects me,

"I'm bisexual".

"Whatever"

I mutter, then kiss him on the top of the head.

He looks at Megan,

"Why does he have issues with gay people?"

We look at each other again.

The same thing on all three of our minds.

'You tell him he's your boyfriend\son\friend'.

edge edge edge edge edge edge edge

A.N.- Heads up. Next chapter from Don's point of view.


End file.
